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DRAGONMOUNT

A WHEEL OF TIME COMMUNITY

The Boys are Back in Town (DotNM RP, Open)


Quibby

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Keeping a cheery smile on his face was difficult, but Mehrin somehow managed to do it.  He had come across the Band's path five days previously, and had spotted the first tail scouts two days later.  By now, he was seeing one every hour or so, which meant that there were at least four that he was missing.  He made a point to wave at each one that he spotted; by now, tales should have reached the Band regarding the strange fellow clad in black following them.  More would probably mention his oddities, including an over-sized claymore and a proclivity for rising before the sun to train with said weapon until sunrise.

 

By now, anybody that had been with the Band for more than a year knew that Mehrin Deathwatch was beating a path to their back door.

 

The idea was bittersweet.  At one time, the Band had been home.  For many years, Mehrin had marched with these men, killed alongside them, and seen many of them die.  Those memories came unbidden at times.  On the trek south to meet the Band, Mehrin had passed by Bandar Eban, where the combined might of the Band, the Children, the Wolfkin, and the Aiel had cast back the invading forces of Seanchan.  Mehrin had stood on the pitted and twisted battlefield, had said a prayer to the Creator- if the bastard was listening- at the mass graves.  Even the Seanchan ones.  It was there that Mehrin had received a field promotion that seemed to send him spiraling up the ranks until he had received the worst news possible: he had been promoted to Commander of the Band.

 

The walk south had continued, bringing the plague of memory with it.  Step.  Anya Tarin Winter, an Illianer and infantrywoman who Mehrin had loved, died shortly after his promotion.  Step.  The walls of the Citadel, a simple wooden barricade, were being eyed and measured by Ogier masons, who would be given free hand in the building of a mighty fortress.  Step.  A day in the life of a Commander: hours of self-training before sunrise, then hours of training with recruits, an expensive bottle of brandy for breakfast.  Step.  A woman, thought long dead, staggered into the Citadel, claiming her name was Drea Raylin.  Step.  A girl, no more than nine, came to his office, a daughter named Renalie Malon.  Step.  His daughter, taken.

 

Mehrin had forced memory to silence after that.  It was too much to think about all that had happened.  He needed to forget.  He needed to move.  In Saldaea, Mehrin had nearly picked up the bottle again but for a message that arrived for the Band's eyes-and-ears.  The code was one that meant "call to arms".  The one word had read, "Tanchico."  There was no time wasted.

 

Step.  The scouts were coming out of the trees, some with bows drawn and aimed.  Mehrin raised his hands, still smiling, and said, "A black wind blows from the north, and the grey geese fly south for winter."  The scouts looked around at each other in confusion.  More were limbering up their bows now.  "I take it that means they've changed the password?" Mehrin asked rhetorically.  Well, there was nothing to do but wait.  Somebody would be along to fetch him eventually.

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Mehrin Deathwatch, a name Burgandy had heard repeated by several of the other scouts with a little bit of awe in their voices did not look so impressive in person. Sure, he looked tough, and deadly enough, but Burgandy had encountered others who looked as deadly or more so in his time. Some had shared drinks with him, some had died by his arrow or his blade. Some had even defeated him in pitched fights, from time to time, but none had ever managed a killing blow. This fellow did seem to be one to be reckoned with though, perhaps he could learn a thing or two from the man.

 

Having been the first to notice the stranger – if you could call him that – Burgandy had been put in charge of keeping track of him while the other scouts assembled themselves against him and sent word back to the main army, which had been an easy task; Deathwatch had made no move to hide, and had long since spotted him, two or three times now, Burgandy was sure. The man also moved slowly appearing deeply in thought while at the same time appearing entirely aware of his surroundings, something even some Warders hadn’t managed to master in Burgandy’s experience.

 

Soon Burgandy heard someone approaching him near silently, the occasional soft crunch of something on the ground being the only thing giving the new arrival away. A sergeant appeared beside him, and appeared to study Mehrin for a few moments before turning to Burgandy with a hard look on his face.

“Has he done anything we should be aware of? Anything unexpected at all?”

 

“No Sarge, if he had, he would have been skewered by my arrows by now. He’s been very good so far, and most certainly knows that you and I are here by this point. He’s been aware of my presence for some time now.” The sergeant nodded at Burgandy, and looked around as though he expected to see somebody he raised his hand and whistled a bird call. One that wasn’t as commonly used by the scouts.

 

Nodding his head he hissed at Burgandy “Make sure your bow is nocked, but not drawn unless I give the say so. Lets go.” That made sense, having the arrow drawn would do nothing more than tire Burgandy out, and tired people win few fights.

 

The two of them headed out from the brush, as several other members of the Band also became visible. Mehrin raised his arms and spoke, “A black wind blows from the north, and the grey geese fly south for winter.” Nobody responded to him, and Burgandy just looked at him a little confused. He must be using an old password, as Burgandy had never heard the phrase before in his life. The old man spoke up once more, "I take it that means they've changed the password?" His suspicion having been confirmed, Burgandy and the rest merely waited, as there was nothing for them to do until someone of higher rank in the band appeared.

 

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Tevares rode his Tairen chestnut colored gelding along the trail the wove its way through the forested landscape.  The gelding was a sturdy mount with a surprising turn of speed.  As good as could be found without being Tairen blood stock.  Tairen blood stock were the horses of nobles or the insanely wealthy.  Too expensive for the illegitimate son of a Tairen lord.  He was lucky to have the mount he had.  The horse belonged to his father, as did his armor and weapons.  The latter were not as fine as his horse but they were serviceable.

 

The mounted men of the Band rode in two columns to a clatter of horses hooves, creaking leather, and the occasional jingle of metal.  The sound of such a large force on the move seemed quiter than he had expected.  The Band also moved much quicker than the merchant caravans that Tevares was used to.  It was surprising given the units of infantry, archers, and engineers that made up the rest of the army.  The army had scouts out as well, any commander worth his pay would have scouts out though the Band had men whose sole purpose was scouting.  Tevares had played the role of scout and forager serving as a merchant's guard those these men and women were different.  They seemed to be an odd lot, dressed in whatever clothing would help them blend in to their surroundings.  Definately not the fine clothing and armor of Noble's on horseback therefore it held little interest for Tevares.  

 

Infantry, archers, scouts, and engineers all served a purpose but it was the calvary that was the backbone of any army.  It was a foolish notion of course but Tevares did not know any better, he was young and inexperienced.  Some fools who should have known better refused to admit it holding to their beliefs that a mounted charge was the most powerful attack in an army's arsenal.

 

Suddenly the column was called to a halt, a call for an officer to go to the front rumbled through the ranks.  Apparently the scouts had spotted something of note.  Tevares reined in his gelding taking the time to scan the mounted ranks.  It only confirmed what he had figured.  He was the only one of his father's men to be ushered through that hole in the air.  That's what he got for being wide eyed and curious.  His father's mounted troops had just arrived and Tevares wanted to see this Citadel.  Next thing he knew some grizzled sergeant was ushering him through that bloody hole in the air.  Maybe his curiousity would lead to opportunity.

 

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